A Homiehood Hogswatch
by Twist
Summary: Sybil, Downey and Rust are on a mission. The mission? Teach Havelock Vetinari the true meaning of Hogswatch. Preseason posting. Feel special.


A Homiehood Hogswatch  
  
Twist  
  
Summary: Havelock Vetinari, former Patrician, hates Hogswatch. And so, as the story decrees, three spirits visit him. But he doesn't exactly cooperate. And, well, the spirits are a bit unconventional.  
  
Disclaimer: It belongs to Terry Pratchett. Lawsuit sprinklings for everyone!  
  
~  
  
The three little children looked up at the dark house. Normally, it would be storming over this particular piece of property but it was winter so that couldn't really happen. But the sight of the house and the little shed behind it still worried the miniatures.  
  
"The guy who lives there is insane," one of the small children said. "He used to Patrician and it drove him off the edge. And he hates people."  
  
"Hah, well he used to be Patrician," said the girl, "which means he's got money. Let's go." She set her jaw and marched toward the house. "We'll sing for two seconds before we run." She was thinking 'Aha, I am clever. He won't have time to scare the innards out of the wimps.'  
  
However, Vetinari was, obviously, smarter than your average nine-year old and was waiting on the inside of the door thinking 'I'll scare the brats out of their minds and leave them mentally scarred for the rest of their lives. Suck that, carolers.'  
  
The poor, unassuming little children mounted the stone porch to the house and before they'd even uttered a word the door swung open.  
  
'Disheveled' didn't even begin to cover the description of the man in front of them. His graying hair fell over his face and, even though his clothes were completely black, they were very obviously rumpled. He grinned. "You know, I hate kids and winter," he said personably, pulling a crossbow out of somewhere. The miniatures were too terrified to notice that it wasn't loaded. "So now would be a good time to leave, hmm?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.*  
  
"Money?" The little girl managed to squeak, backing away.  
  
"Bugger off," he growled, slamming the door. About two seconds later he was satisfied with three screams and the sound of three little people tripping over each other in terror to get home to their parents. Across the street, Sybil Vimes heard and looked out of the window. Commander Vimes chuckled.  
  
"He pulls that same one every year and it still works."  
  
"Sam!" Sybil said, hitting her husband. "Remember when he did it to Sam? When he was ten? He was terrified of him for months! We couldn't get him to walk in through the front door."  
  
"It strengthened his character," Vimes said, chasing a piece of ham around his plate. It kept resisting his attempts to skewer it. "He wasn't scared of much after that."  
  
"He was so nice while he was Patrician," Sybil said, casting worried glances out of the window. "I mean, sane anyway. Havelock never really was one for kindness." Sam snorted. "We're going to have to have a conference on this one," she said, making up her mind.  
  
"That odd little group of yours?" Vimes asked.  
  
"Yes," Sybil said, standing up from the table. "Tonight. Something must be done about his behavior."  
  
"He's just gone completely insane, Sybil. It's really alright," Vimes said. The last thing he wanted was for Rust and Downey to be performing rituals with his wife on Hogswatcheve. In their house, too.  
  
"No, Sam, something must be done. I'll have Emma fetch them."  
  
~  
  
And so, an hour later, while Downey and Rust were being ushered into the Ramkin mansion, we find Vetinari sprawled on a couch in one of the many rooms with couches in eating crisps and reading a recent book on political theory. The only reason he was reading it was because he was mentioned and pointed out as an example several times. It's always nice to know someone appreciates you.  
  
Glancing out of the window he saw the light in Sybil's personal drawing room was on. That was where all of those bizarre little meetings had been held, wasn't it? There and somewhere in the Palace. He couldn't be bothered to remember where.  
  
He turned back to the book, part of his mind wondering why he had ever detached himself from that particular group. However, the rest of his mind was so wrapped up in the complete and utter incorrectness on the current chapter that that little bit known as 'conscience' was ignored.  
  
~  
  
"I hereby call this meeting of The Sacred Homiehood to order," Rust said, smacking the pencil with a pebble attached to it against the table. "Sybil thinks there is a problem. Present, please."  
  
Sybil Ramkin leaned forward onto the table. "Well, it seems that in the past year or so, one of our members has grown detached. Now, we all know Havelock's been a bit out of sorts since he stepped down, but today I saw him terrorizing children."  
  
"Again?" Downey asked.  
  
"Yes. And on Hogswatch, too. So I think we all ought to remind him what group he's apart of as well as what Hogswatch means you don't do."  
  
"Alright," Rust said. "It does seem reasonable."  
  
"Yeah, seeing as one of the little brats lives next door to me," Faustus Downey said. "Er, children, sorry," he said, catching Sybil's look. "So how are we going to go about this? You know very well he won't listen to us just going over there and talking. We'll have to pull some elaborate stunt. At least those keep his attention."  
  
"I've just the idea," Sybil said, leaning in. They conferenced. There were some hissed objections here and there, but otherwise they seemed to be agreeing.  
  
~  
  
In the Vetinari house Havelock was on the couch where we left him, book abandoned on the floor and crisp packet empty. He was asleep, occasionally shifting into a more comfortable position. The candle had burned down, but the moon was shining unusually bright, so there was light in the room. Outside, there was the sound of someone carrying a rather tall ladder and some other people arguing over which window to use.  
  
Vetinari twitched, but remained asleep. However, when there came a loud thunk of a ladder against the side of the house, he shot awake and into a sitting position. Twenty-five years of being ruler and having Assassins after you all the time will do that to you. When he heard the voices arguing he merely rolled his eyes. "What are they doing this time?"  
  
Someone was climbing the ladder. He got up, and sort of shuffled over to the window. Walking normally required too much energy. He hoisted the ancient window up in its sash. The sight that met his eyes nearly made him seriously consider fleeing to his actual chambers and hiding for the next few days.  
  
Sybil, Rust and Downey were all standing outside in the back garden wearing some of the most ridiculous things he'd ever seen. Sybil had, apparently, taken a whole jar of sparkles and dumped it all into her hair. Rust was wearing a very spacious green coat with more fur on it than ought to be allowed, and was carrying a torch. Downey was the only member of the group that was normal. Well, as normal as anyone in their little group was able to be.  
  
Vetinari closed the antique window as quietly as possible and slunk back into the shadows. They were going to break into his house, certainly, but he was damned if he didn't make Rust or Downey wet themselves first. He sat quietly onto the floor, blending with the dark shadows that pooled there, and waited.  
  
It was not, however, Downey or Rust who ascended the ladder first. He sighed and stood up to help Sybil get the window open. And maybe to knock off some of the glitter. It was really bothering him.  
  
"Thanks, Havelock," she said, but her mouth was set thin in the line that he recognized as that of the expression of Disapproving Sybil. She dismounted the ladder and came into the room. "Do you know why I'm here?"  
  
Vetinari was strongly reminded of a nanny he'd had as a child, and fought down the instinct to say 'Yes, Miss.' "No, Sybil, I do not know why you've just gone through the trouble of breaking into my house when all you had to do was ring the bell."  
  
She glared. "I'd appreciate an end to the attitude now, Havelock. I am here to remind you what the season of Hogswatch is about."  
  
"Ah, yes, that," Vetinari said, nodding attentively. Sybil hit his arm. "That sort of hurt, Sybil."  
  
"Behave yourself, Havelock." She gave him a worried glance, noticing his appearance in full for the first time. "And comb your hair, will you?" She watched in distress at the sad attempt to make it lie flat, and sighed. "Never mind, Havelock." Sybil cleared her throat and brought herself up to full height. "I am the Reminder of Your Past Hogswatches."  
  
"And Rust made the name up, no?"  
  
"Yes, he did. Never been one with creativity, that one. Anyway, I am here to remind you of the Hogswatches you had in the past," Sybil said, suddenly realizing she'd gotten the short end of the deal. Hogswatch had never really been an excessively happy event in the world of Havelock Vetinari. "In hope that you will remember what the spirit of Hogswatch is."  
  
Vetinari sat, faintly amused but more or less fascinated with the way Sybil was going about it. "Humor me, Sybil."  
  
Sybil sat in the chair opposite, attempting to think of one Hogswatch where Havelock hadn't been miserable. Her mind settled on the happiest one she could think of. "Remember the Hogswatch party a few year back, when Sam was about four? And you were still Patrician?"  
  
I think," Havelock said, with a completely honest expression on his face, "that I have never been hit in the groin so many times in my life."  
  
"He liked you," Sybil snapped, defending her child. "And he couldn't help his height."  
  
"He could have helped the whole running straight at me thing."  
  
"And you could have moved."  
  
"And he would have hit a table, split his head open, and it would have all been my fault anyway. I never win, Sybil."  
  
"No, you lose all the time. That's why Ankh-Morpork is the most powerful city on the Disc." Sybil watched his face, saw him slump, and knew that she had won. In some odd way though, it was losing, as she'd just proved his point. He'd noticed too. Nothing else could explain that smirk.  
  
"Yes, Miss."  
  
"Anyway," Sybil said, finally getting back to the point, "I'm trying to point out that while you probably were in constant pain, it was the only Hogswatch I can think of when you weren't truly miserable. And you did give someone something. I'll admit, you did give explosives to a four-year old, but I suppose that is beside the point."  
  
"He liked them."  
  
"Yes, yes I believe that no one can deny that he did. His father, however, did not, as most of the explosives found their way into his paperwork."  
  
"All part of the master plan, Sybil."  
  
"Are you done yet?" Someone called from the ground.  
  
Sybil leaned out of the window. "No! He's being difficult!"  
  
"Repeat that, Sybil, I think there were some people in Ting Ling that didn't quite catch that."  
  
~  
  
On the ground, Downey and Rust were having a rather pleasant conversation, secretly grateful that it wasn't them up there, dealing with Havelock.  
  
"So what did your wife give you, then?" Downey asked, leaning against the house, pulling a small flask of water out of his cloak. "It's bloody cold out here."  
  
"She gave me a stuffed pig and a pen. I don't think she's forgiven me for the toilet incident several years ago." Rust looked sulky.  
  
"I told you that you should call a plumber, but no, you had to make it up to your son and let him fix the toilet," Downey said personably. "But I did talk Havelock into letting you stay at the Palace while they cleaned the raw sewage out of your house. That's being a good Homie."  
  
"And you get Watch Scout cookies for that, do you?" Rust glared at an older, leafless tree.  
  
"No, it just gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside." The ladder creaked, and the two men looked upwards. "Sybil survived," Downey observed.  
  
"You deal with him, Ron," Sybil snapped. "He can be so stubborn sometimes."  
  
"That's what made him a good politician," Rust pointed out. "Er, do I have to use the ladder? Did he say anything about the bell?"  
  
"Yes, but I wouldn't bet on him answering," Sybil said.  
  
"Alright," Rust said wearily. "I'll make an attempt." He mounted the ladder. "So I light the torch when I get in the room, do I?"  
  
Sybil suddenly looked panicked. "No! Just give me the matches will you? Perhaps you better leave the torch here." Downey and Rust exchanged looks.  
  
"So he's in one of those moods, is he? Good gods." And with grim determination, Rust began to climb the ladder.  
  
~  
  
Commander, His Grace, Sir Samuel, the Duke of Ankh-Morpork Vimes was watching the fiasco across the street with amusement. Rust had managed to get halfway up the ladder on the fourth try, at which point he'd remembered he was afraid of heights and had stopped dead.  
  
Sam Vimes Jr. stopped home for a break between parties, and became engrossed in the spectacle as well.  
  
"So that's what mum's been doing for that past half hour, is it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Ah. Well, isn't that special." And thus the father-son bonding session ended as Vimes Jr. headed into the kitchen for some mulled cider.  
  
~  
  
Vetinari was watching Rust with considerable amusement. The man's watery blue eyes were alight with the terror of being one and a half stories above the ground. "Would you like some help, then?" Havelock asked, after being amused enough to consider being kind to his friend.  
  
"What are you going to do? I know you, you evil bastard!" Rust was gabbling random things out of sheer terror.  
  
"Now, that's not a very nice way to speak to someone who can save your arse," Vetinari pointed out, leaning on the window sill.  
  
"I'm sorry! Please, just get me down or up or whatever! I want off!"  
  
Vetinari rolled his eyes and sneered as kindly as he was able. "I'm going to talk you through this until I can help you, alright? You're going to have to be a big boy and do some things all by yourself."  
  
Rust nodded, glad to hear something reassuring enough to sound like a first- grade teacher. The fact that this was coming from one of his friends who also happened to be notorious for his cruel tricks on small children was being withheld.  
  
"Okay, were going to take our left hand off of the ladder and put it up on the next rung, alright? Can you do this?" Vetinari watched the momentary panic spread across the other man's face.  
  
Rust shook his head and said 'no' quietly.  
  
"Why can we not do this? I told you you were going to have to be a big boy." Vetinari was trying as hard a humanly possible not to fall out of the window and to his death, laughing hysterically.  
  
"I'm not left-handed," Rust whispered.  
  
"Oh," Vetinari said kindly, nodding and looking concerned. "I'm terribly sorry. Let's use our right hand, shall we?" Rust nodded, and moved his right hand shakily from the rung it was currently on and placed it quickly on the next rung up. "Very good!" Vetinari encouraged. "Now, we need to move our left foot up onto the next rung."  
  
"But I'm not left-footed," Rust said quietly, trembling.  
  
"Well," Vetinari snapped, his last shred of patience gone with whatever amusement had previously been, "it's either that or you jump down into the snow and hope for the best." Rust quickly removed his foot and replaced it. "Now, lather, rinse, and repeat as needed," Vetinari growled.  
  
"What?" Rust panicked. Those weren't normal instructions.  
  
"Do it again, but with the opposite hand and foot."  
  
After much talking and persuading, Rust was finally to a point where he could reach out and grab Rust. This was now being debated whether or not this idea was wise.  
  
"What if you drop him?" Sybil called up.  
  
"He won't drop him, he's an Assassin. Assassins don't drop things," Downey said, watching the whole scene with an amused look in his eyes.  
  
"Well, I don't know about you two but I think he might break my arm in sheer terror. Can't he just come up the ladder the rest of the way normally?" Vetinari was leaning out of the window, trying not to shout. The neighbors were going to give them all hells for this.  
  
"I'm going to die!" Rust said decisively.  
  
"What would happen when he got to the top of the ladder?" Sybil asked Vetinari.  
  
"I'd tell him the rest of the ladder was invisible and he'd fall onto the floor. Problem solved." Vetinari wasn't really concentrating on the conversation at this point, and was judging the height of Rust and the length of the ladder he'd managed, as well as the distance to a snowdrift a small distance from the side of the house. "How about if we just knocked the ladder over and let him fall into the snowdrift over there?"  
  
"Is there anything under the snowdrift over there?" Downey asked.  
  
"No," Vetinari replied.  
  
"Now, boys, I'm sure there is a better way to execute this -" Sybil started, but both of the men burst into evil snickers at the word 'execute'. "I'm sure there's a better way of getting Ron down than pushing him into a snowdrift," she finished, looking at Downey and then Vetinari. All she had to do was look at the facial expressions to know she'd lost.  
  
~  
  
Across the street, Commander Vimes watched as Vetinari grabbed both of the edges of the ladder, and pushed it away from the wall and slightly to his right. Then he watched the ladder fall with a screaming Lord Rust firmly attached to it. Against all laws of physics, and merely because the author doesn't want to kill Rust off, the ladder landed with a small spray of snow and a thump followed by a crinkle into the snowdrift. He watched Vetinari jump out of the window and slide down a gutter to go over to see if it had worked. And he watched three of the four people begin to panic.  
  
~  
  
Sybil ran over to the fallen Rust, followed by Downey. She heard someone land in the snow, and shortly thereafter heard Havelock and Downey talking about how very cool it was that the stunt had actually worked.  
  
When they reached Rust, they saw that he was laying on a black tarp. A suspiciously pointy black tarp with small cones sticking out from around the edges.  
  
"Am I dead?" Rusts asked, upon Sybil's sparkly arrival. He saw Vetinari and Downey behind Sybil and sighed, "No, I suppose not."  
  
"You're lucky those dead fireworks broke your fall," Downey said, as he a Sybil helped their comrade up.  
  
"Perhaps this isn't the best time," Vetinari said nervously, catching up with the other three and pushing them along, "but those fireworks aren't dead."  
  
~  
  
Both Vimes males watched all four of the people across the street break into a sprint and dive behind a dead tree. They wondered why. They found out shortly afterwards.  
  
~  
  
Rust, Downey, Sybil, and Vetinari were four adults, and only two of them were thin. Naturally, watching four adults with two of heavier build attempt to fit behind one fallen tree is a good thirty seconds of panicked amusement. Rather like throwing a cookie on stage at a fashion show.  
  
After roughly one tense minute, nothing had happened, and Vetinari risked glancing over the trunk to make sure they all were still alive and not crispy bacon bits.  
  
"I suppose I didn't set any off then," Rust said, he, Downey, and Sybil sitting up and brushing their sleeves off. "Good thing, too; it could have been very dangerous."  
  
At which point the tarp exploded into a million popping, banging and sparkling things. They were children's' fireworks, and Vetinari was slightly depressed about the waste of money, but had enough sense around fireworks to know that the show had not yet begun.  
  
"One of those sparks is going to light a fuse," he said, cowering behind the log, "and then there'll be fireworks."  
  
No sooner had he spoken than the sky as filled with colorful cones soaring through the air and filling the night sky with blues, yellows, reds, fireworks just designed to be loud, triple explosions, Morporkian candles, Agatean Bangers, and several that had been created by the retired Patrician himself that flew into the air, hit something, bounced off, and exploded multiple times with such noise that even people in the Shades could no longer ignore them.  
  
"It's so beautiful," Vetinari whispered. Rust hit him.  
  
"I almost died!"  
  
"Pretty fire . . ." Downey said, as an unfortunate duck walked over some Lancre firecrackers and caught fire rather rapidly.  
  
When the show had ended, several people who had gathered on Scoone Avenue applauded.  
  
~  
  
"So giving me fireworks wasn't an unusual thing for him, dad?" Sam asked his father.  
  
"No, son, apparently not."  
  
~  
  
Vetinari, Sybil, Rust and Downey stayed hidden behind the log until the smoke and the crowds had cleared, at which point they stood up, looked at each other, and burst into laughter.  
  
"That was awesome," Downey said, wiping his eyes when they'd finally managed to contain themselves.  
  
"I really had no idea how those new fireworks were going to work out," Vetinari said, still chuckling. "I hadn't planned to set them off until this summer, and even then, somewhere far away from civilization."  
  
"So," Sybil said severely, straightening up, at which point they realized that she had not really been all that amused. "I hope you boys learned something tonight. Especially," she rounded on Havelock, he full wrath facing the poor man, "you."  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked carefully, cowering. "I have learned many things, but which one in specific are we talking about?"  
  
"What is the true Hogswatch spirit?" Sybil crossed her arms and glared, realizing privately how silly she was being.  
  
"To knock your best mate off a ladder and into a pile of fireworks?" Downey and Rust snorted.  
  
"No! You're supposed to be kind to children and those around you, to let them know you love them." She looked at the facial expressions of those around her and realized that this was not the best answer to give a group of males.  
  
"Oh," the three of the chorused.  
  
"Now, all of you go home. Remember, Havelock, that there's a party at the Selachii's tomorrow, would you? It's always so rude when you don't show up."  
  
"Yes, Miss."  
  
"Goodnight, boys."  
  
Sybil departed, and when she was sufficiently out of earshot, someone whispered "Let's go find some more."**  
  
~  
  
Across the street, watching the somewhat more controlled show of fireworks was Commander Vimes and his wife, sitting on a couch with a fire in the fireplace and a teenager reading the teen section of the Times behind them.  
  
"So did you introduce the Hogswatch spirit to our neighbor who was also my boss and has lost him mind somewhere in the last five years?" Vimes asked, watching a blue firework illuminate the snow.  
  
"I rather think I did, dear," Sybil said. Across the street, a Lord Downey- shaped thing fell out of a tree. "There are of course, a few things for us to reintroduce to him -"  
  
"Sanity would be a nice start, mum," Sam said from behind them.  
  
"- but I rather think he might one day be normal again."  
  
"We can only hope," Vimes said, watching a rather erratic firework slam into the side of the Vetinari mansion. Sybil reached over, grabbed her husband, and they began to kiss quite romantically.  
  
"Gods, you guys are so disgusting," Sam said, from behind them, and he began to leave.  
  
"Clean your room!" Vimes yelled, as the teenager slammed the door and went upstairs to leave them alone in Snuggle Land.  
  
End  
  
~  
  
*A/n: /drool/ Mmm, so sexy. Hug me, Havelock! /launches herself into the man's arms/  
  
**You're probably expecting a nice, sappy ending, aren't you? When have I been known to be sappy, hmm? I was going to leave it there and let all of you suffer, but I don't think I will. I'll be nice. I'll give you your sappy ending. Sort of.  
  
A/n: Awww . . . wasn't that cute? I feel so warm and fuzzy inside. Do you feel warm and fuzzy? Yes, I know it isn't Christmas yet, but I was oh so eager to share this. SO what you can do is read this on Christmas and then pretend you haven't already read and reviewed before (note the hint). Happy Christmas, Hogswatch, Kwanzaa, Chanukah, or whatever you happen to celebrate. Though, at the moment, I should say to my fellow Americans: Happy Thanksgiving! Kudos to you all, love you much, peace out. 


End file.
